Monthly Archives: November 2014

On account of real life getting in the way, I managed to fall a few days behind in my compilation of a playlist for “Shackles,” my historical fiction novel that tells the story of Paul the apostle’s earth-shaking encounter with a jailer in the Roman colony of Philippi, circa 50 A.D. The story is two-fold and simultaneously follows separate paths: Paul’s story when he was Saul the great persecutor of Christians and later then converted evangelist, and the story of the jailer, a man I named Faustus (he’s unnamed in Acts 16). I’ll admit that Faustus became my friend as “Shackles” unfolded and is one of my favorite fictional creations. I suppose it’s not too late to have imaginary friends, right?

The separate paths of Paul and Faustus eventually collide – literally – and then the story follows the outline already detailed in Acts 16. A few of my 18 beta readers have finished the story and their comments and feedback are trickling in.

For the next two entries to “Shackles: The Playlist,” I’m offering a double dose of Chris Tomlin. “I Will Rise” and “My Chains Are Gone.”

One of my all-time favorite sacred hymns is “It Is Well With My Soul,” and there a line in the last verse that yearns: “And Lord, haste the day when the faith shall be sight.” That the answer for that yearning is foretold in Tomlin’s “I Will Rise” with the phrase, “And my faith shall be my eyes …”

Whew. Goose-bumpy stuff.

And “My Chains Are Gone” incorporates the timeless standard “Amazing Grace.” The concepts of chains breaking, shackles falling off, and liberation from the oppression of sin and spiritual darkness are absolutely fitting for “Shackles.” Allow yourself to also consider other ways that we become shackled. Our religious institutions often put us in chains with lists and expectations, which is the very thing that Paul fought until his death. We do a pretty good job of shackling others, too, with our finger-wagging and self-righteousness.

Laying down your life for a friend. Taking the place of someone who is condemned.

Those are actions from the heart of Christ, and the kind of love that Christians are called to display. In “Shackles,” I presented those concepts in the story of Faustus, the man that I imagined as the jailer who interacted with Paul and Silas from Acts 16. But earlier in the story, Faustus offered to take the place of his slave – his best friend – rather than allow a gross miscarriage of justice. I’m offering an excerpt from that scene below.

The redeeming story of “Shackles” is that Christ offered his life as payment to satisfy the debt of all who call on his name – confessing with our mouth, believing in our hearts.

“My slave did not take these gods,” Faustus insisted. “And you know it. You had them stolen, you had …”\

“Now, wait a moment,” Lucianus said. He stood. “I would not involve myself in such a thing, because just touching those things – those gods – can get a man’s hands chopped off.”

“You are an evil man,” Faustus replied. “Pure evil.”

“You are mistaken, Faustus,” Lucianus said. “I am trying to make things right, and what I see here is your best slave returning idols he had stolen, because he lives with you, and you certainly told him to just undo his deed and all would be forgotten.”

“I’m not listening to this. Let’s go Lutalo,” Faustus ordered.

“Well, not until there’s appropriate payment for this crime, Faustus,” Lucianus added. “I insist, and you being an upstanding man – and so well-respected by Emperor himself – have to appreciate that.”

“Oh, but I’m afraid not, Faustus, because, you see …” He directed Pinkus to bring Lutalo to stand next to Faustus. “By about now, if you set others about the task of looking for more ill-gotten gods at your house, they will have found two statues that came from …”

“My house.”

Faustus began to take off his tunic. “I’m going to end you right here!” he shouted.

Lucianus motioned for another slave to bring him something, and the slave placed a scabbard in his hands. Lucianus stepped toward Faustus, carefully held the scabbard by the blade, and offered the handle to Faustus.

“You take this now. Go ahead, Faustus, you’ve wanted to do this for some time, and thrust it into my gut.”

Faustus refused to take the scabbard.

“So you will not end me here,” Lucianus said. “I knew you wouldn’t. You knew you wouldn’t. These gods know you wouldn’t.” He sliced at the air. “So here’s the price I exact. Bring me Lutalo.”

Faustus pushed his way around the other slaves and stepped in front of Lutalo.

“You will take my life, not his.”

“Take your life? Take HIS life?” Lucianus laughed. “I’m only going to lop of one of his hands. Now move aside.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Faustus snarled. He grabbed the handle of the scabbard and wrested it away from Lucianus. Lucianus told the slaves holding Lutalo to let him go.

“You see, I was going to have them bring him over here, hold his arm on one of these stones, and ‘whack’” … Faustus threw up his arms. “But now you have the implement of justice.”

Faustus thrust the scabbard onto the marble surface. “There will be no retribution – no so-called justice – because my friend, my slave did nothing wrong.”

“No, Faustus, there will be justice, because I have six slaves who will tell the magistrates that they saw your slave take these idols.” Lucianus walked smugly back and forth between Faustus and Lutalo. “And there are others – not slaves, but the kind of witnesses that magistrates believe – who will testify the same thing. So, yes, there will be payment and retribution.”

Lucianus picked up the scabbard. He handed it to Faustus. “Here. Kill your slave.”

“If anyone dies it will be me,” Faustus argued. “My life. Not his.”

Lucianus forced himself to laugh.

“What a noble gesture – a man laying down his life for a slave … for,” Lucianus paused, then spun and turned toward Lutalo. “For his friend.”

“A Roman family man, cheated by a lifelong enemy, descends into darkness and despair. A transformed persecutor of Christians avoids a vicious stoning and multiple murder plots. Shackles tells the story of two men, separated by hundreds of miles, destined for an earth-shaking encounter.”

“Shackles,” my historical fiction novel-in-editing that tells the simultaneous stories of Paul the apostle and a jailer in Philippi, is set in the year 50 A.D. As I was searching for Roman/Latin names to decide what to name the jailer, I came across “Faustus.” When I learned the name means “Lucky,” I had what I was looking for, because Faustus is anything but lucky. Unlike the stereotypical first century Roman man, whom I usually think of as rough, domineering, even cold, Faustus is incredibly kind, gentle, compassionate, affectionate … Yeah, the traits we don’t commonly associate with men of that culture and that generation.

By any standard, he’s a “good guy.” And not unlike a lot of good guys, he is tormented by secrets and the ever-present fear that his world could come crashing down at any moment.

And then it does.

When that happens, where does a man or woman turn? What good was “being good?”

That’s from the story of Faustus, but no one had more to say about the futility of “being good” than Paul, who at one point genuinely thought that he was doing good by killing Christians. Expectations, rules, guilt and shame are powerful chains. What are the “chains” in your life? Self-sabotage? (See me raising my hand?) Guilt? Overwhelming feelings of inadequacy? Unrealistic expectations of yourself? Of others?

Shackles, historical fiction, 83,000 words, set during the years 34-50 AD.

“A Roman family man, cheated by a lifelong enemy, descends into darkness and despair. A transformed persecutor of Christians avoids a vicious stoning and multiple murder plots. Shackles tells the story of two men, separated by hundreds of miles, destined for an earth-shaking encounter.”

Grace.

It was a scandalous concept demonstrated by Christ and the theme of the life, ministry and writings of Paul the apostle. But too often Christians embrace grace for themselves yet hold others up to impossible lists of rules and standards. If I can “be good” enough, obey enough, pray enough, read my Bible enough, share my faith enough, go to church enough … Hmmm. Just when will it be “enough.”

Paul said the cross was “enough.” So why do we insist on saying, “Yes, grace and the cross, but …?”

There’s no “but” or “and.”

Please don’t pull out the line, “Yeah, but a REAL Christian would …” or “But a GOOD Christian would …”

If you have even an inkling of that attitude, soak in “Jesus, Friend of Sinners.” It’s not about “those people.”

It’s about us.

“Open our eyes to the world at the end of our pointing fingers … Nobody knows what we’re for only what we’re against when we judge the wounded … Oh Jesus, friend of sinners, break our hearts for what breaks Yours.”

The synopsis for my unpublished, not-yet-in-editing historical fiction novel, “Shackles,” set during the years 34-50 AD.

“A Roman family man, cheated by a lifelong enemy, descends into darkness and despair. A transformed persecutor of Christians avoids a vicious stoning and multiple murder plots. Shackles tells the story of two men, separated by hundreds of miles, destined for an earth-shaking encounter.”

My selection of a playlist continues as I await feedback from a dozen and a half beta readers. Please send me your suggestions for the playlist.

“Oceans (Where feet may fail)” by Hillsong United might be the new anthem for today’s generation of Believers, the same way that “Amazing Grace,” “Rock of Ages” or “The Old Rugged Cross” was the standard for worship songs once upon a time.

A Roman family man, cheated by a lifelong enemy, descends into darkness and despair. A transformed persecutor of Christians avoids a vicious stoning and multiple murder plots. “Shackles” tells the story of two men, separated by hundreds of miles, destined for an earth-shaking encounter.

Let me know your suggestions for music to accompany “Shackles.” I’m especially partial to a capella arrangements, but anything with spot-on harmony will get front-of-the-line treatment. I’m a fan of Phillips, Craig and Dean, and “Crucified With Christ” was a regular anthem during the last few months of writing. The title comes directly from the mouth of Paul, the great persecutor turned preacher, from Galatians 2:19-20, and you’ll find it in “Shackles.”

Send me your own recommendations. I’m also looking for secular music that fits the story, and I already have two songs in mind: a love song from Perpetua to Faustus, and a love song from Faustus to Perpetua. (Think Faith Hill and Steven Tyler/Aerosmith).

A Roman family man, cheated by a lifelong enemy, descends into darkness and despair. A transformed persecutor of Christians avoids a vicious stoning and multiple murder plots. “Shackles” tells the story of two men, separated by hundreds of miles, destined for an earth-shaking encounter.

One verse in the Books of Acts gave birth to “Shackles” several years ago, although I didn’t realize it until 13 months ago.
“Around midnight, Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the other prisoners were listening.” (Acts 16:25)
Music brought “Shackles” to life, so it’s only fitting that music has played a key role in the writing process. The music that has accompanied this journey is rather eclectic, but also traditional. My tastes range from classic rock and Southern gospel to Indian flutes and contemporary Christian. As “Shackles” enters the test-reading and proofreading stage – with revising and editing to follow – let’s put our musical minds together for the “Shackles” soundtrack. Please send me your suggestions.
I’m getting “Shackles: The Playlist” started with a song – and music video – that tells the story of Acts 16:25. Ray Boltz’s “I Will Praise The Lord.”

Here’s the rest of the cast for the main characters in “Shackles.” Most of the characters from the jailer’s part of the story in Philippi are entirely fictional. Paul’s part of the story, based on the Book of Acts – in particular, Acts 16 – features real characters with whom I carefully took creative liberties.

If anyone has contact info for the director/production team of Ron Howard and Tom Hanks, pass it along and let’s get this fantasy project turned into something for the silver screen. (As mentioned previously, I cast Mr. Hanks as Claudius for the Philippi story, but he’s welcome to switch with Christian Bale to play Barnabas if he’d like). Remember, this fantasy cast is based on a fantasy budget. I wanted to find spots for Johnny Depp and Will Smith, but even fantasy budgets have limits. I want to shell out the biggest fantasy bucks possible for the Howard-Hanks team.

And here’s another snippet from “Shackles,” which is now in the hands of 18 or so test readers. Tomorrow: we begin making “Shackles: The Playlist,” so start passing along your favorite Christian, sacred and secular songs that might fit this story.

CHAPTER 24 – Telling the world …

Barnabas wondered if Paul had recognized the two men.

“I’ve noticed that many tend to follow us from town to town,” Barnabas said. “But these two. They seem different. Not just curious. It’s hard to explain.”

Paul had a more exact impression.

“I know the tactics,” he said. “I’ve used them.”

Barnabas was puzzled. “Tactics?”

“Plant seeds of division and doubt, find a spark of disagreement or anger, and fan it into flames of hatred.”

“You mean they want to do us harm?”

“Have they approached either of us with questions about our teaching? About Jesus?”

“Well,” Paul said, patting Barnabas on the shoulder. “Our God is sovereign and in control. Just as He worked when I went throughout Judea, Samaria and Syria planting seeds of doubt and division, looking for sparks of disagreement or anger, then fanning the flames of persecution.”

“So you’re saying they want to do us harm?”

“They’re being very patient,” Paul said. “I’ll even go so far as to say they have support from the high priests in Jerusalem. Very similar method of stirring trouble and hatred. And the cleverest part is they get others to actually get their hands dirty.”

“Dirty?”

“Bloody. They won’t need to pick up stones. They’ll get others to do it.”

While a dozen and a half readers consume and ponder the first complete draft of “Shackles,” I’m presenting my personal fantasy cast for the movie version of the book. This creative meandering is entirely dependent on the book actually getting published, someone adapting it for film, and someone else having unlimited funds to afford this brilliant cast.

You’ll meet the rest of the cast of primary characters tomorrow – Paul, Barnabas, Silas, Timothy and Luke. I’ve made my selections, but who would you pick to play those icons of the New Testament? After the cast is named, I’ll start announcing my playlist for the motion picture soundtrack. Go ahead and start giving me your suggestions. (Tip: secular music is okay).

Today’s excerpt of “Shackles.”

CHAPTER 8 / PERSECUTOR

“The tide has left our shores, Saul.” Gamaliel stepped to the side. “I’m hearing that many – dozens, perhaps hundreds – of those believers avoided capture and are scattered throughout Judea and even Samaria.”

Saul refused to debate his old teacher. Another member of the council also spoke out.

“That Jesus fellow chose a dozen disciples and then appointed 70 more,” the man said. “Do you know where they are?”

Saul quickly answered. “That 70 number was a myth. More like 10. Most of those derelicts gave up right away when they realized that Jesus wasn’t going to pay them wages, and they wised up after going out into the masses and trying to follow his radical teachings.”

“Are you so sure?” Gamaliel asked.

“What does my teacher know that can help us squelch this apostasy?” Saul replied.

“Have you found those original disciples? I believe they are all still in Jerusalem. All but one. Killed himself, I heard.” Gamaliel scanned the faces of other Pharisees. Many did not return his glance. “The others. In hiding, I’m sure, but still here. And I’ve heard that one of those extra 70, a man named Phillip, has already been to Ethiopia. Preaching about Jesus.”

“How many?” Saul shouted. “With the high priest’s permission, I will personally hunt them down and bring them back here for justice.”

“Your anger is fueling their cause,” Gamaliel said. “This persecution you have unleashed is actually fulfilling their twisted prophecies about the message of Christ spreading well beyond our borders. Without your persistence and persecution, they would have stayed right here in this city until they had either converted everyone or their little fad had run its course. Or until the Romans tired of the drama and dispatched them on crosses.”

Gamaliel walked away. “You should visit with some of your prisoners who have relatives in Syria.”

“A hundred miles from here?” Paul asked.

Gamaliel turned toward him. “Just a little further than that.” He pointed to the northwest. “Damascus.”

Since I’m working with an unlimited budget to build my fantasy cast for “Shackles: The Movie,” I’m selecting Opie – I mean, Ron Howard – to produce and direct. (You’ll make a lot of money, Mr. Howard. It will be a pleasure working with you). I’m also bringing his buddy Tom Hanks on board and while I have Mr. Hanks playing a bit part portraying Emperor Claudius, he can choose to play Barnabas instead, if he’d like. My Barnabas actor will have to take Claudius if Mr. Hanks prefers Barnabas.

Hugh Jackman, the Wolverine, gets the role of the fictional Lucianus, the antagonist of Faustus, the central character in the story. Emma Stone is Lydia. Welcome aboard. We’ll start production as soon as Mr. Howard, the best director in America, gets back to me. No rush.

Tomorrow: You’ll begin meeting the cast for Paul’s story, featuring the apostle’s old Pharisee teacher. The actor portraying Gamaliel played my all-time favorite television character from a series that ran from 1972 to 1983. Hint: The series finale in February 1983 still ranks as the highest-rated single television broadcast in U.S. history wtih 105 million viewers. Care to guess the series and the character?

Here’s a short scene from my historical fiction novel “Shackles,” featuring Lydia and Faustus (Eddie Cibrian), just a few hours before Faustus’s world crashes.

From CHAPTER 18 – Stolen gods …

Faustus turned toward Lydia.

“You’ve come to see for yourself the unrest in Philippi?”

“No, I just happened to be coming by with my nieces and I stumbled up on an interesting question,” Lydia said. Faustus craned his neck and leaned back looking for her nieces.

“They’ll be along,” Lydia said. “But I heard someone ask how a god can be stolen or go missing.” She looked at Faustus.

“Is this a riddle?” he said.

“Not at all, just a curious inquiry from someone who acknowledges a God that cannot be stolen or go missing.”

“Your God,” Faustus said.

“Jehovah. My God.”

“I think you mentioned that God, but no others,” Faustus said. “With only one God to keep track of, it would be harder for him to go missing, I suppose. You have but one God to appease. We have hundreds.”

Lydia softened her voice and repeated that no one can steal Jehovah.

“One God,” Faustus said again. “It does make one wonder if your God is alone because He killed all the others in a fit of jealous rage?”

“Oh, my God is a jealous God.” Lydia lowered her head. “Graven images are an abomination to Jehovah.”